


you were the one next to me

by jemmasimmons



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmasimmons/pseuds/jemmasimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It all began with a little girl hidden in a cupboard with her knees tucked ever so tightly to her chest."<br/>-<br/>In which Fitzsimmons meet as children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you were the one next to me

**Author's Note:**

> \+ i wrote this whole thing in an afternoon how cool is that?? 
> 
> \+ im honestly so proud of myself i mean ive been in a rut for a while so the fact i wrote this so quickly makes me so happy
> 
> \+ this fic may or may not have a sequel, or may become a series. i havent decided yet. mainly because i dont have many ideas but we will see.
> 
> \+ there is a trigger warning for needles and surgery right from the start so please be wary of that
> 
> \+ shoutout to melissa for being a babe and reading this through for me
> 
> \+ title is from if i lose myself by onerepublic

It all began with a little girl hidden in a cupboard with her knees tucked ever so tightly to her chest.

The boy had only been looking for somewhere to hide, but the little girl wore a look of alarm that shocked the young boy as she squeaked “Occupied!” as he flung the door open with an unusual haste.

“Sorry,” he squeaked back, his eyes flitting from the girl to the room that he stood in. “I didn’t-“

The little girl shook her head, “It’s fine,” she told him as her little brown analysed the boy that had found her. “Just don’t tell anyone I’m here, please?” Her lip began to curl as she noticed the blue sling that appeared to be holding up the boy’s left arm. “I didn’t realise this room wasn’t empty.”

The boy frowned, “It is. I was just looking for somewhere to hide.”

“Oh,” the girl’s eyes seemed to light up at this realisation. She scanned the area of the cupboard for a second and decide that there was definitely room for one more. She tucked her knees even closer to her chest and looked hesitantly at the boy before her, who was trying to look anywhere but at her. “You can hide in here with me if you like?”

For the first time, the boy looked the girl right in the eye. “Really?”

“Really,” she nodded. “But you should be quick though, you don’t want anyone to see us.”

The boy nodded to show he understood what she had said. And quickly and with a lot of shuffling, the boy managed to sneak his way into the cupboard (though not without a few cries of pain as he jerked his arm harder than he would have liked to), and tucked his legs to his chest just like the girl had done.

The girl smiled at him for a second after she had closed the cupboard doors, making sure that no one would be able to find them in their secret hiding place. “What’s your name?” she asked with her knees still tucked to her chest.

The boy pondered the thought for a moment. He scrunched his nose as he did, his hand pressed firmly against his chin before he decided which answer was the most appropriate. He could have told her his real name, but he didn’t like his real name. And he could have told her his nickname, but he didn’t really like that either. But then a thought popped into his head, a thought of his dad, and suddenly the boy new exactly which name to use. “Fitz. My name is Fitz.”

The little girl let out a small chuckle, “That’s a funny name.”

“It’s my last name.”

“Oh,” the little girl pondered the thought for a moment before a little smile curled against her pink lips. “That must make me Simmons then,” she realised before holding out her hand.  

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Simmons,” Fitz giggled, shaking Simmons’ open hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Fitz,” she replied, truly meaning every word she said. “What brings you to this cupboard?”

“I don’t want to be outside,” he admitted, slumping against the edge of the cupboard as his thoughts began to wander towards the world that existed outside of the cupboard.

“Me neither,” Simmons whispered back. “It’s boring and sad outside.”

“And people want to stab you with needles,” he said sourly. “I don’t like needles.”

Simmons nodded in agreement, “Me neither. But they stick them in my brother all the time.”

The boy’s shock reignited a little as he tried to understand why someone would be so horrible and stick needles in Simmons’ brother all the time. “Really? Why?”

But Simmons only replied with a small laugh, rolling her eyes at the obvious. “Because he’s sick, silly. We are in a hospital after all.”

Fitz grumbled in response. His thoughts turned to his arm and how he regretted thinking that jumping on his bike and ride down that hill with no hands was ever a good idea. The thoughts made his arm feel even sorer than before. “Yeah.”

Simmons could see that Fitz’s lip was beginning to curl upward like he was thinking about something sad, so she changed the subject to try and stop those sad thoughts. “How old are you?”

“I’m seven.”

“Ha!” Simmons exclaimed, much too loudly for someone that was meant to be hiding. “I’m older than you! I’m seven and a half.”

“But I’m seven and a half too,” Fitz informed her. “My birthday is August 19th.”

“Oh,” it was Simmons’s turn to sink back against the cupboard. “Then you must be older than me then.”

Fitz couldn’t deny that the thought made him smile.

He wanted to ask the mysterious _Simmons-from-the-cupboard-who-was-younger-than-him_ a lot more questions but light seeped into the cupboard as the doors flew open and a man with angry eyebrows huffed as he looked at the pair hiding in the cupboard.

“Jemma Simmons,” the man said with an angry voice. “What have I told you about running off?”

Simmons – who was really called Jemma as well as Simmons – folded her arms across her chest and looked in the opposite direction of the man with angry eyebrows. She pursed her lips as if to say something, but the words she had in mind didn’t seem right so she chose not to use any instead.

“Jemma,” the man spoke again with a _‘you’re in trouble’_ voice that all parents seemed to use, Fitz noticed. “Get out of the cupboard,” he instructed before looking over to Fitz and added, “And say goodbye to your friend.”

Jemma Simmons didn’t look at her new friend as she clambered out of the cupboard, but muttered her goodbyes under her breath as she reluctantly followed the man with angry eyebrows out of the room and away from Fitz.

Fitz’s mum found him later, probably after talking with the man with angry eyebrows he presumed. But she wasn’t angry, she never really got angry with Fitz. She just sighed and led him out of the room with her hand in his, listening to her son’s stories of a girl he’d found hidden in a cupboard.

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t long before Fitz and Simmons found each other once more (and a few more times after that) and soon the pair had become almost inseparable. Like two peas in a pod, Fitz had heard his mum say. He didn’t really understand what it meant though.

“You’re it!”

“No wait that’s not fair! I wasn’t ready!” Fitz watched as Simmons turned the corner and vanished from his sight. “Simmons, come back!” he shouted, but it was futile. He was going to have to catch her. “Some of us have broken bones you know!”

Slowly, Fitz quickened his pace to a run but he stopped only moments later, wincing as the pain in his arm became too much. He shouted his surrender down the corridor, knowing that Simmons would come running back only moments later – which she did.

“Sorry,” she apologised between breaths, but the grin on her face told another story.

Fitz pulled a face at her, “You know, I would be able to catch you if I didn’t have a broken arm.”

“Nope,” Simmons shook her head, “I don’t believe you. Besides, I’m the fastest girl in my year.”

Fitz didn’t bother telling her that his running skills weren’t really up to par, but instead met her claim. “Oh yeah? Well I’m the fastest _person_ in my year.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” Fitz lied.

Fitz could feel the competitive beast within him begin to stir as Simmons produced a smile that was so smug he wished he really _was_ the fastest person in his year. “We should have a race when your arm is better. Unless you’re scared that I’ll beat you.”

“I’m not scared,” he told her. “Because I’m going to beat you,” but Simmons simply laughed in response, leaning against the wall before sliding down it and sitting on the floor.

Fitz joined her moments later, trying to manoeuvre himself in a way that would cause himself the least amount of pain.

The halls weren’t very crowded, the pair noticed. They were rather empty in fact. Unusually empty. Must be a Sunday, they both silently agreed – because neither of them were old enough to care about keeping track of what day it was.

Several nurses flashed them smiles as they walked past. They new the pair by name – both separately and together – and often referred to them as _Fitzsimmons_ whenever they saw them roaming the halls, causing mischief together. Fitz wasn’t sure whether he liked that name yet, but he didn’t think they were going to shake it any time soon.

After a while, Fitz noticed that Simmons had brought her knees to her chest again and began to circle her thumbs around one another. That’s what she did when she was nervous, Fitz had realised. She did that a lot.

“Are you scared?” she asked, seemingly out of the blue.

But Fitz understood, nodding in response. “A little.”

“Do you think it will hurt?” Simmons asked after processing Fitz’s first response.

This time, Fitz shook his head. “Mum says the doctors give you special medicine to make sure that it doesn’t hurt. But I’m not sure I believe her.”

Simmons rocked her head back and forth ever so slightly. “I always tried to ask if it hurts when my brother goes for surgery, but no one really listens. So I just read my books instead but they don’t tell me either.” Simmons twirled her thumbs even faster, “Will you tell me if it hurts?”

Even at the age of only seven and a half, Fitz knew that was an odd request. But it didn’t seem to bother him. Simmons was his friend, and she really _really_ wanted to know. So he was going tell her. “Yes.”

“Thank you, Fitz!” Simmons chimed and hugged Fitz (but was especially sure not to touch Fitz’s arm because he hadn’t had any special medicine yet so she didn’t want to hurt him). “You’re a great friend.”

Fitz couldn’t deny that the compliment made him grin. But his grin soon disappeared as he thought of his surgery which would be happening in less than a day’s time. He had never had surgery before. And new things scared him.

Fitz turned towards Simmons, his eyes wandering everywhere but towards hers. “Jemma,” he said quietly – using her first name to show that he was being very serious. “Will you go with me to my surgery tomorrow?”

Simmons furried her little brows, “I don’t think I’m allowed to. I’m not allowed to go when my brother goes for surgery even though I really _really_ want to.”

“Oh,” Fitz whispered, hoping that Simmons wasn’t able to see his sad face.

But Simmons did see his sad face, and decided to _‘turn that frown upside down’_ like her dad would say whenever she was upset. “But I could always come and see you before you go? Would that be okay?” Fitz nodded, which made them both smile.

Jemma took Fitz’s good hand into her own and continued to smile as he looked at her in bewilderment. “Even though I won’t be in there with you, I will be with you here,” she pointed to his heart.

“The whole time?” Fitz asked quietly, and Jemma nodded.

“The whole _damn_ time.”

Fitz gasped, “You just said a bad word!”

Simmons shook her head insistently, “It’s not a bad word,” she told him. “It just has more meaning.”

Fitz pondered the thought. “Oh,” he said aloud rather than in his head like he had thought he had done. “I like that.”

“I like it too,” Simmons beamed.

Fitz squeezed his friend’s hand and looked her right in the eye as repeated her words back to her. “The whole damn time.”

_“The whole damn time.”_

 

 

 

 

“It’s going to be fine,” his mother assured him, running her fingers through his light curls in a repetitive motion that although Fitz found soothing, it didn’t calm the churning he felt deep in his stomach.

Fitz’s eyes scanned the bleached halls. There were so many people of all shapes and sizes filling the halls with so much noise, much unlike the day before, and Fitz was scared he wouldn’t be able to see Simmons even if she was in the crowd.

 _The whole damn time_ , Fitz thought to himself. He repeated the words over and over again in his head as they wheeled him towards the operating room, hoping that maybe Jemma Simmons would appear to him somewhere along the way.

Fitz could hear the grown ups talking above him, but he wasn’t really listening. He wouldn’t have understood their big words anyway. But he knew it meant something was happening, and the feeling he had felt in his stomach began to spread throughout his entire body, making it tingle with unwanted nerves.

His mother kissed his forehead and squeezed his hand, telling him that she would be right by his side when he woke up. She didn’t mention the ifs, because she was going to see him again. Of course she would. But Fitz knew they were the only thing she was thinking about. Even if he was only seven and a half.

Fitz honoured her with a smile and a joke, looking her right in her tired and worry-filled eyes before they wheeled him through the double doors and she was out of sight.

His heart thudded in his chest so fiercely he thought that it might break through his chest. He knew it was impossible, of course. But even then he wasn’t quite sure.

The doctors had begun to speak to him once his mum had gone. Their words were still big and scary even when they weren’t trying to be, but Fitz put on his bravest face and nodded to show that he understood what they were trying to say. But he was scared. He was very _very_ scared.

Fitz had almost lost hope that Simmons would come and see him now. She probably had something more important to do, he told himself. And that was okay. But it didn’t stop him wishing that maybe she could have come and seen him off too.

“Fitz!”

The boy looked up at the sound of his name being called and grinned when he saw a red-faced Jemma Simmons wave frantically at him. She doubled over a little as she caught her breath, but she didn’t take her eyes off of Fitz as he disappeared further down the corridor.

Just before he continued through another set of double doors, Fitz watched as Jemma repeated pointed to her chest with a tired grin plastered across her face and a thumbs up from her other hand.

Fitz smiled and the numbness he felt in his fingers and toes began to fade ever so slightly. He took a deep breath as the doctors placed a mask over him face and asked him to count to ten, but he never go past four. But Fitz knew that that was okay. Because Jemma was with him the whole damn time, and he didn’t have to feel so scared anymore.

 

 

 

 

“Does it hurt?” Jemma asked, studying his arm as if it were a specimen.

Fitz winced, “Yeah. Ow, that hurts Simmons!”

“Sorry,” she apologised, sitting on her hands to made sure that they wouldn’t be able to hurt Fitz’s arm again. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Fitz assured her. “It’s fine.”

Simmons acknowledged his words with a nod, but she still felt a tight knot in her stomach like she did whenever she did something wrong and her mum and dad got mad with her. Because she really didn’t mean to hurt Fitz. He was her friend and friends aren’t supposed to hurt each other. She just wanted to look.

Fitz watched as Simmons’ legs swung back and forth on the edge of his bed, noting how the hanging of her head and the way she was refusing to look at him showed that she was upset. Normally, he would have told her a joke to cheer her up, but he had already told her all of his best jokes. Even all the ones about monkeys, which he had only ever told to his mum. So he felt a little bit lost when he looked at his new friend and her sad expression.

“Thank you the card,” he told her, realising that he hadn’t thanked her for it yet. “I really loved it.”

Simmons gave a brief nod, “I thought you’d like monkeys. You tell a lot of monkey jokes.”

“That’s because they’re the best,” he grinned. Simmons smiled a little too, but not as much as he had liked. “It’s the best card ever,” he told her after a moment of silence. “It really is.”

She thanked him quietly, but then returned to silently swinging her legs.

Fitz sighed. He had never really sighed much before, but he knew it was necessary. He really shouldn’t have used up his best jokes so quickly.

He racked his brain for what seemed like _forever_ (especially for a seven a half year old), but eventually Fitz had found the right words to say.

“You’re my best friend in the whole world,” Fitz told her after what he felt had been almost an eternity of silence (which in reality had been no less than two minutes).

Simmons swivelled her head to glance towards Fitz, “Am I really?” Fitz nodded. “That’s good because you’re my best friend too.”

Fitz couldn’t help but grin, “Am I really?”

This time, Simmons nodded and matched his grin with a small laugh. “I’m very glad I met you, Fitz.”

“And I am very glad I met you too, Simmons.”

Fitz looked at Simmons and saw her smiling a smile so big that Fitz wasn’t sure he had ever seen one that big before. And that made him smile too. Because Jemma Simmons was smiling and he was smiling and that was okay.

 

 

 

 

He had wanted to say goodbye, he really had. But Fitz’s mother sighed and told him that Simmons and her parents probably didn’t want to be bothered at this difficult time, so he would have to find her some other time. Fitz wasn’t sure if that time would ever come though.

So after insisting for a full five minutes and thirty-five seconds, Fitz’s mum allowed him to leave a note for his best friend. It wasn’t a long note, only a few words. But he was sure Jemma Simmons would understand. Because she was his friend and that’s what friends did.

He left the note where he knew she would find it, and after thanking the nurses he left the hospital with hand curled around his mother’s, disappointed that she wasn’t there when he looked back.

Jemma found the note easily enough, but that was not what she had wanted to find. She had wanted to find her best friend. She had wanted to find her Fitz because she couldn’t stop crying and best friends were supposed to make it stop.

So the little girl hid in the cupboard once more, with her knees tucked ever so tightly to her chest. And she cried. Not just for her dead brother, but because her friend had gone and she didn’t know how to get him back.


End file.
